A Matter of Hope
by SniperCT
Summary: The recall has gone out, but Angela has not responded. Thinking that Angela needs a reminder, Fareeha takes her to an old museum to show her what Overwatch was supposed to be.


"I didn't know this place still existed." Angela's voice wavered. Most others wouldn't have caught it, but Fareeha had made a habit of picking up on Angela's vocal cues. She didn't blame Angela for being emotional. In same ways, that was the whole point of coming here.

With a sweep of her hand, Fareeha' brought the power online. The lights came on, revealing a myriad of displays and glass cases. They were filled with pictures and memorabilia, and replicas of weapons and people. There were dioramas of events.

One by one, the cases lit up. An automated voice came to life, "Greetings aspiring heroes! Welcome to the Overwatch Museum, Vancouver. Here, you can explore the history of the Omnic Crisis and the heroic organization that saved the world!"

Fareeha looked around, taking everything in. She hadn't been here since before she'd joined the military, and much of it was the same despite the museum having been shut down years ago. Some of the exhibits were new to her, though.

Next to her, Angela was still for a moment, before she walked over to a mural and pulled down a dust sheet. That one was definitely new, but Fareeha recognized everyone there. How could she not? She'd grown up on their heroic deeds and stories, she'd followed their careers even while she'd been in the army. Fareeha had dreamed of one day standing besides them, only for that dream to shatter.

She joined Angela, "This is recent. Ish." Putting her hand on Angela's shoulder, she bit her lip when the doctor leaned against her. "Tracer is in it."

"I never approved," Angela replied. Her eyes fell on Lena's beaming smile, "She was so young. But she was highly skilled and Leadership looked the other way. They considered Slipstream too important, and they wanted the very best. So they rushed it."

Turning her head, Angela looked up at Fareeha with sorrowful sapphire eyes, "I tell myself I couldn't have known. About the pressure from above, or any of the other things that came out at the end. At the time I refused to believe any of it. But ignorance is no excuse. I could have _done_ something, Fareeha. I should have."

"You can't change the past," Fareeha said. She started to guide Angela through the exhibits, "But you can remember it. Learn from it. Apply what you've learned to the future."

The world was filled with injustice. People who were suffering, people who needed help. Overwatch had helped these people. Responded to disasters both man-made and natural. One exhibit depicted Reinhardt lifting rubble with his armor while Angela pulled a child to safety. There were similar scenes all around. Dozens of them. Fareeha stopped Angela in front of a particular display. Her mother, smiling and so young, her arm on Reinhardt's with Liao on her right. They stood next to Morrison and Reyes, and Lindholm before he'd lost his arm. They all looked happy and proud, their eyes full of hope and light.

Tears ran down Angela's cheeks, splattering in the dust at their feet. She pressed her palm against the glass, the waver in her voice turning into a crack, "Why are you showing me this, Fareeha?"

Fareeha folded her arms around Angela, holding her and pulling her head to her chest. "To remind you. About what Overwatch was supposed to be, about the core values. Overwatch was about hope. Helping people. No matter what anyone says, no matter how much it lost its way, that's what it was meant to be."

Startled by the fervor in Fareeha's voice, Angela lifted her head from her chest. Her throat bobbed, "You would have been the very _best_ of more people like you, maybe…"

Giving her a wry smile, Fareeha responded, "If only my mother would have seen that." Her smile faded. She cupped the side of Angela's face, voice lowering to a raw whisper, "I know about the recall. I know you haven't responded and I can guess why. I know you're worried about the mistakes of the past, about repeating history. I wanted to show-"

"Come with me," Angela interjected. "Because you're right. I'm worried about all of those things, and more. Secrecy. Blackwatch. But you're _different_."

She put her hand over Fareeha's. "You're different. Overwatch needs your unwavering moral coe every bit as much as it will need Lena's optimism."

And the hope, Angela thought. There was no wide-eyed innocence nor naive idealism in Fareeha's expression. But she'd seen that hope in Fareeha's eyes when they'd stood in front of that mural.

Fareeha laughed. "You assume Tracer already responded."

"Lena will be the first to sign up and the last to quite." For the first time since the lights had come on, there was determination in Angela's eyes. And maybe a little bit of hope.

It was a good look on her, and Fareeha felt her chest tighten and her stomach flip. It didn't much help when Angela leaned in and kissed her cheek, right at the corner of her mouth.

"Thank you. I didn't realize I needed this kick in the rear until now."

Fareeha stood there stunned for a moment, before she snapped out of it. "So what now?"

"We have to meet your father for dinner," Angela reminded her. "And then … we're going to call Winston. They're going to need a doctor. And I can think of no better candidate for Strike Commander than you."

"I'm sorry, what?" Fareeha thought she had to have misheard that, until Angela brushed the back of her hand across her cheek.

"The old guard made mistakes. So many of them, and we all have blood on our hands because of it. But you know when to do the right thing, when the right thing is more important than the mission." Angela dropped her hand to her side. "And more than anything, Overwatch will need that."

"If I say no?"

"Do you want to?"

"That's not what I asked."

Angela pursed her lips, "Then I'll ignore the recall. I don't want to do this without you, and I'm not going to force you into it, either." She looked into Fareeha's eyes and Fareeha got the distinct impression it was more than her moral code that interested Angela.

"I'm in." Fareeha ran her hand through her hair.

"If your mother were alive, she might kill us both," Angela joked, taking Fareeha's hand as they walked to the exit.

Fareeha darted her eyes, "... About that."


End file.
